On top of a blanket
In a nightgown and socks
Inside of a battered
Old Frigidaire box

Paula gives out a cry
In the mid of the night
Like the cry of a cat
In the grasp of a plight

The one she had loved
Was taken away
Not by death but by those
Who would not let him stay

Bryce sleeping soundly
At Network 23
Has no idea soon
That a dad he will be

Now he dreams of face
As he quietly slumbers
Instead of the sequences
Of complex numbers

But though he has tried
A few times to go
Back to the Fringes
The boss tells him no.

So with her newborn son
Paula travels the dark
Seeking the warmth
Of a simple fire spark

So to Big Time she travels
And knocks on the door
When Reg says "Hello, Paula"
(He's met her before)

"Who's the baby?" Asks Domique
And as quick as a trice
Paula tells her and Reg
"He's the child of Bryce."

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